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| [08/03/2008, 21:51] | HUMBLY requesting your help |  | | Dear faithful readers & other masochists, I am a proud and irascible man, yet one quick to forgive when there's no money at stake, and therefore I turn to you, fellow voyagers on the wine-dark seas, 'umbly beggin' your freely creative assistance in dreaming up a title for the fourth and final Part of my precis of TheLastItalianWineMemoirYoullEverHavetoRead. I have already referred to this concluding segment as an "apotheosis" of sorts, but there is a problem with this: I have never had an apotheosis before. In fact, no one I... | | TrackBack | | | |
| [08/01/2008, 09:17] | WineWebNews: aspettando Winot? | |  Ho volutamente scelto questa immagine, tratta dal Wine Camp blog dell?ottimo Craig Camp, che ritrae i cerchi dei carri formati dai cow boys in attesa dell?assalto dei pellerossa per illustrare l?uscita di oggi di WineWebNews, la rassegna stampa delle notizie più interessanti su vino ed enologia apparse negli ultimi sette giorni sul Web (siti Internet e wine blog) che realizzo per il sito Internet dell?A.I.S.
Mi è piaciuta tantissimo questa metafora dei tavoli in cerchio o a U paragonati alla posizione di difesa usata nel Vecchio West usata per descrivere la particolare atmosfera che si respira in occasione di grandi degustazioni dove ?il format è sempre lo stesso, una grande sala di un hotel con tavoli sistemati come i cerchi dei carri formati dai cow boys in attesa dell?assalto dei pellerossa? e una terribile ressa di gente che t?impedisce di degustare seriamente ed ?è difficile pensare ad una situazione peggiore per giudicare un vino?, perché ?una degustazione seria non è in programma ed è inutile aspettarsela?.
Si tratta, invece, solo di ?un party anche se in fondo non c?è nulla di male a concedersi un po? di tempo in compagnia di buoni vini?.
Un clima a metà tra il saloon, il Deserto dei Tartari di buzzatiana memoria, magistrale esempio della rappresentazione della vita come attesa di un grande ?evento? che non si sa mai se si manifesterà e se sarà davvero tale, e le metafisiche attese di Godot del Waiting for Godot o En attendant Godot di Samuel Beckett, dove spesso non accade niente e quel che accade, con il clima di divertita kermesse e niente più, non ci piace particolarmente?
C?è però molto altro in questa puntata che vi invito ad andare a leggere, la tentazione di Michele Marziani (e un po? mia) di ripartire nientemeno che da Frosinone e da una belle guida dei vini frusinati, il nostro viaggio nel vino italiano, la segnalazione di una bella intervista video al grande Bruno Giacosa, la cronaca di una visita a Maria Teresa Mascarello, un interrogativo malizioso, ma il vino era meglio quando si faceva peggio?, sorta davanti ad una bottiglia di Chianti Classico riserva del 1974, ?i vigneti che fanno la differenza? e la grandezza del vino di Langa, secondo un articolo del Chicago Tribune, le scelte di Tyler Colman, alias Dr. Vino sui vini più adatti a simboleggiare una American way to wine, scorci di Sonoma Valley sbattuti in etichetta e la nascita della Fivi, Federazione Italiana Vignaioli Indipendenti, di cui parlerò dettagliatamente in un apposito post.
Beh, se volete leggere, qui, credo che le cose divertenti-stimolanti-interessanti non manchino proprio?
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| [07/31/2008, 15:53] | PART 3: I SELL MY PASSION | | | Here is the third and penultimate segment of my definitive precis of the LastItalianWineMemoirYoullEverNeedtoRead. In it you will find joy and heartbreak, hard work and the ineffable pleasure of swanning about with men of noble name and meaningless title. Ladies and gentlemen... | | TrackBack | | | |
| [07/31/2008, 10:05] | Brunello di Montalcino 2003: dissequestrati o che altro? | | 
Messo sull?avviso da questo post pubblicato su VinoWire.com dal mio amico e sodale Jeremy Parzen, leggo sull?edizione on line di Wine Spectator una notizia di ieri data dal collaboratore di James Suckling Jo Cooke, wine news riguardante il Brunello 2003 di Castelgiocondo Marchesi de’ Frescobaldi che letteralmente titola:
?Frescobaldi Brunello di Montalcino Partially Cleared Tests prove yet-to-be-bottled wine is pure Sangiovese, but bottled wine remains to be approved”
Riproduco fedelmente il testo della news pubblicata da WS:
?Local magistrates have released approximately half the production of Marchesi de’ Frescobaldi’s Castelgiocondo Brunello di Montalcino 2003 from impoundment after laboratory tests concluded that the wine contained only Sangiovese, as required by Brunello DOCG (Denominazione di Origine Controllata e Garantita) regulations. According to Lamberto Frescobaldi, who oversees production of all his family’s estates in Tuscany and beyond, the cleared wine consists of 469 hectoliters (equivalent to around 5,200 cases) of yet-to-be-bottled Brunello.
The winery has already bottled 5,000 cases, which remain under the scrutiny of the magistrates, who have not said when Frescobaldi can expect further results. “This is a welcome step in the right direction,” said Frescobaldi. “But it’s going to take some time yet before things are cleared up completely in Montalcino.”
Frescobaldi is the second winery in Montalcino to receive clearance from the magistrates; the first wine to be cleared was Antinori’s Pian delle Vigne Brunello di Montalcino 2003, in June.
The Italian finance police, the Guardia di Finanza, seized Frescobaldi’s Brunello in April 2008, together with the Brunellos of Antinori (Pian delle Vigne), Argiano and Castello Banfi, as part of an investigation led by Siena public prosecutor Nino Calabrese.
The producers were suspected of blending in varieties other than Sangiovese. Argiano declassified its Brunello 2003 in June and released it as a Toscana IGT, Il Duemilatre di Argiano (the 2003 of Argiano), to avoid delays as the investigation proceeded. Castello di Banfi is still awaiting clearance?.
Leggo poi sul blog degli amici dell?Acquabuona la notizia che il ?Brunello di Montalcino 2003 di Castello Banfi non sta solo in qualche lontano luogo d?oltreoceano (come segnalato giorni fa da Franco Ziliani) ma anche, più modestamente e in grande quantità, alla COOP di Rieti??.
Di fronte a queste notizie che possono essere interpretate in molti modi, preferisco per il momento tacere e trincerarmi dietro ad un gigantesco NO COMMENT?
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| [07/25/2008, 08:05] | Gig Order | | Commentary by Beatrice Russo
 IWG wrote about going off the reservation, in his last post. Have you seen the movie Apocalypse Now? Well, it?s one of is favorite movies, I know, because once when I watched his house for a week, I went through all his movies. And he had two versions of it.
For my generation, it?s a Vietnam era movie in which a couple of Green Berets go deep into Cambodia to assassinate a former soldier who has ?gone native.? This Captain Willard dude is going after the renegade Colonel Kurtz. See the movie. I?m watching it close-up. Alfonso has gone ?Kurtz? on me.
 A few months ago he helped get me settled into this gig where I was around a lot of good wine, some money to pay the bills and a career track. Or so I thought. The reality was that if I don?t fight myself through the jungle I?ll never end up with much of anything. The whole wine biz deal is pretty much set on reaching these conditional goals that are constantly changing. I am Ok with a moving target, but, hey, I don?t see much incentive to excel, when the warlords at the top are controlling the numbers. IWG tells me to be patient, it will all work out. Like hell.
He?s off for a few days; has to take the vacation time or lose it. When he does, he escapes to his ?isola? and leaves me with the keys. Only rule is that I don?t get all wicked and profane. No problem for me, I know how to make myself understood.
 Anyway, he?s in the middle of a deal to bring in a line of new Italian wines and all of a sudden he?s verklempt about it. Dude has some gnarly emotions. Feels like he was handled. I told him to get over it, think about the poor suckers in the vineyards. Little young me, telling he who aspires to the pinnacle. Whatever. So he goes and takes off. Fine with me.
I IM?d my friend in Austin, tried to help her get me a bead on the scene. She was out ?blitzing? some brand before the hurricane hits land. So she couldn?t help shore up the yurt.
Anyway, thank God he left a freezer filled with some better-than-sex Limoncello. Did I say that? Oh well, it?s been a dry haul lately and relief from Campania in the form of lemons and alcohol will offset my temporary personal disappointments.
 And, you ask me, what does this have to do with the blog? Nada. Anymore than sequestering all the jalapenos has anything to do with making folks feel better. Don?t get me started. Here goes. We are now treating produce like we treat terrorists travelers. Stand here. Go through this screening process, drop your drawers, oops you have been infected with salmonella. It wasn?t bad enough that we all had to be infected with fear from the governmental overlords who get the jollies when all of us are scared to get on a plane? Now we have to be afraid of tomatoes? And jalapenos? What is going on in this country?
IWG is really going to freak with this one, but how about what we are all witnessing, this summer? I?m glad this is happening in my youth, although I?m not sure there will be much left in my older years. If I ever make it that far.
 Ok, wine. That what everyone wants. I did try some flawless wines from the Loire. Neal Rosenthal stuff. Not Italian, so IWG will probably fuss. Not Verdicchio, he says. Not Fiano. Well, the last Fiano I had wasn?t Fiano. What?s up with that? I want acid, not bubble gum. I tell you, when that producer shows up next month, I?m going to corner him and defy him to turn his property back on track, little ?ol me. I?ll get my friend in Austin and her southern Italian girlfriend to help me. I don?t want another wine from Southern Italy to taste like it?s from Australia or Paso Robles. Yeah, there?s a kind of hush, all over the world, alright. Telling me to shut my trap.
When the heck is IWG coming back? I can?t do this gig twice in a row.
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| [07/23/2008, 08:22] | A Sea of Affluence | |  Over the past year a little thread has been drifting past me. I hear a story about a couple going to Italy to spend time on a large yacht, another story about a fellow who travels to Italy with a concierge-in-waiting. A trend, or something that has always been there? It seems there is a whole 'nother Italy for a group of people who travel. I call it Italy-in-a-bubble.
 For Americans who don?t travel much outside of their comfort zone, which in the last eight years there seems to have been a surge, there is the experience of getting on a very comfortable plane and going to the Italian peninsula. Once the craft touches ground, it seems everything is done to make sure this elite group of travelers never touches their feet on true Italian soil. Usually some kind of driver is waiting there to pick these affluent souls up out of the squalor in which the natives squat, and then there are whisked to some 5 or 6 or 7 star resort, the ones with the 800 count sheets and the white-goose-only down pillows. Or better yet, whisked straight to a port, like Naples or Ostia, where an offshore vessel awaits, private chef, staff and ambience included.
In the last month I have had a handful of people tell me they were ?going to Italy? and described something similar to what I just laid out. Then they asked me where they should go once they got to Italy.
 My first answer? How about going off the reservation? Dump the boat, get on land, get your Cole Haan?s dirty, and step outside of your protective cover. Inotherwords, go to Italy.
First of all, you are not a high ranking government official who needs security. What you need is some oxygen. Dress down; you can ?do a Google? to help you find out how to do that. And get out of the hands of your handlers.
I understand it is difficult to go into a strange land where the language is different and the food comes from a garden instead of a freezer. Or that you might have to try the fresh Swordfish when you?d really rather have Chicken Parmesan.
 Chi mangia solo crepa solo.
So you travel halfway across the world in your private jet or in business class with the headphones and the champagne and the lay-down seat. And you get to the airport where someone is waiting for you. And you are whisked away to a private resort on some secluded hilltop town that has been remade for the travel-elite, so you can rest from your journey. Then what? Is there a plan B, someway to escape the Stalag?
 A million years ago I was in Naples for the first time. I was traveling alone, with a backpack and a couple of cameras. I decided to walk west from the Marina, see what I could see. It was August. About 10 miles later I end up in a little place called Pozzuoli. In those days there were lots of cork products, shoes made of cork, you name it. I didn?t have a lot of money, but I wasn?t too broke to buy a groovy pair of cork-soled sandals. I was surely not traveling the elite route, but it was the real Italy.
Along the way I met scads of children who were amazed at this tall, Italian-looking, jean-wearing alien. I spoke even less Italian than now. But you know what? That day was one of the great memories of travel for me, ever.
 Sure I was out of my element. And I was walking alone in a poor part of Italy, that only 25 years earlier had seen war and destruction and famine. Starvation. Poverty. Got the picture? The children, many of whom are now the folks running the place, what were they going to do to me, rob my soul? Let?s say someone took a roll of film or even a camera, or a pair of jeans, so what? But it didn?t happen. Old women sitting on the outside of their homes greeted me as if I were a grandson. Some invited me in for a bowl of pasta, a glass of wine. That wonderfully real Campanian stuff. Kids wanted me to take pictures of them and kick the soccer ball around with them. Merchants wanted me to take things home for a pittance (this was the era when the dollar was worth 600 lire, and you could buy a meal for about 1100 lire).
 I didn?t have a place to go back to. The super yacht wasn?t waiting off the coast for me to finish my day with the natives. There wasn?t a concierge in a Mercedes waiting up the street, car running, air conditioner conditioning. And guess what, I survived. Not only that, but with memories more golden than the sunset from that isolated cruiser that was never there waiting for me. And for those souls on those super-yachts who think they got a taste of the real Italy, or real anything, I am sorry for them. Because they got the freezer. For those who take that step outside of their Italy-in-a-bubble, they get the garden.
 So who is basking in affluence, in the end? Is it the wealthy trophy wife who got off for an hour to go shopping at the boutiques in Capri? Or the young student with a backpack and a dream? I know which road I took, and will continue to take, as long as the real Italy will be there for me. And the deeper you go, the more gold you will find. And that is something that can never be taken from you, never pick-pocketed, never, ever goes away. Because it is the stuff of memories. And memories are the elite treasures of travel.
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| [07/20/2008, 17:11] | The Stake Behind the Sizzle | |  Driving along the scuttled roads of urban Austin, I finally found a parking place, after 10 minutes of searching. By some twist of fate, I managed to find a place in front of a building that once sheltered one of the most wonderful Italian spots in Texas. It was long gone now, replaced by serial restaurateurs with cash and concepts. The place was called Speranza?s, run by a young couple, Michael and Hallie Speranza, and it was a Mecca for anyone trying to show offbeat Italian wines in those days. The era was the early 1980?s and in those 25 years or so, many places have come and gone, and come again, professing to hold high the banner for all things Italian.
 Austin is a place that defies categorization. So I won?t. But I am not sure the place is ready for the real deal, this time again. Italy isn't a fashion, not a flash-in-a-pan kind of thing.
Back to Speranza?s. Hallie was in the kitchen, and Michael would guard the door for interlopers. I remember him once telling me that people would come in looking for spaghetti and meatballs, or lasagna, and he would escort them out the door and show them to the nearby Spaghetti Warehouse, send them on their merry way. Speranza?s wasn?t a spaghetti and meatballs kind of place. Though if you wanted a really authentic Bolognese, you hit the jackpot.
 Wine wise, we would bring in Dolcetto?s and Nebbiolo?s, Montepulciano d?Abruzzo?s and Tocai?s and they would be welcomed into this crazy little vortex of tipicita?. For a few brief moments, you were in a little trattoria in the Langhe or of some little side road in the Chianti zone. And then it went away. The Speranza?s shuttered their wonderful gem of a restaurant. It was like a death of a friend.
These days Hallie has rekindled her love for things Italian by offering to cater for private parties. And here we have the crux of the dilemma. Why does something as wonderful as the real Italian thing have to resurface on the side street of an emerging culture? Is it that the culture of Austin is so dominating there isn?t room for another ?real? experience? Is the importance and coolness of Austin so restrictive that there isn?t any air in the room for poor little Italian culture to breathe? Is the heat from a Neapolitan kitchen just a little too hot for the cool culture? I find that really hard to believe.
 Don?t get me wrong, there are some wonderful experiences that have sprung up. There is the casual and laid back Asti, which is always fun to see the convergence of things Italian in the spirit of Austin. There is Siena, which is this lifelike reproduction of an Italian Castello, complete with the smells of the open hearth. And there is Vespaio, with its frenetic, Italian-with-a-nod-to-Nice fare. Good times. And there is Damian Mandola?s Trattoria Lisina in Driftwood, which gets so close you can almost smell it. But the real deal, without compromise, hasn?t been back since the Speranza?s shut the door on their little place.
I was talking with my Italian friend Daniela, a wonderful lady from Naples, who runs an Italian-styled place in Austin. I believe if she had the proper finances behind her, she would bring not only la cucina Italiana, but even better, la cucina povera, from the alleys and backstreets of Naples and Pozzuoli. That would be a dream worth hatching. With all respect to the hipness of Austin, to bring the ancient soul of Naples to the streets of Austin, complete with the proper, unspoofulated wines of Campania; a full-out love-fest from the Mezzagiorno.
 I?m not talking about some Dellionaire who has a place in Tuscany and wants to impress their friends back in Austin with their manipulation of millions to appear to be Italian. I?m talking sweat, warts, octopus, Margherita pizza without Parmigiano, real, real, real. No compromises.
The Spaghetti Warehouse that Michael Speranza used to shuttle wayward clients off to is still there. OK, fine.
 But for one moment, to just dream of gnocchi like Aunt Jena makes, to have an insalata di mare like one can only hope to find in Naples, or Ischia, or Mondello, or Austin? That is madness beyond anything imaginable, no?
Or maybe Austin will be remembered for its shrines to Tacos and Tex-Mex, and Bar-B-Que beyond belief, maybe that is really the channel for this lifestyle center. I?m OK with that, too.
But what if we could give someone like Daniela the means to fly her kite high and bring to Austin the thousands of years of imbedded love and lust and sweat and inspiration from Campania? Would that this were also a sweet dream of someone out there reading this, with a few extra dollars and would love to see, with those of us who know it is possible.
Then maybe we could feel the heat from an authentic Southern Italian sizzle.
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| [07/18/2008, 08:01] | The Tune-Up | | 
I have been driving around lately like gas wasn?t $4 a gallon. Just looked at the miles I've covered this week and I probably could have fed a family of four. In any event, Wednesday I headed out early from Dallas to Austin with a trunk full of wine, my trusty Koolatron chugging right along, ready to celebrate its 27th birthday in a few months.
Round Rock, Texas ? once a low-water crossing on the Chisholm Trail, now an ex-urb with row after row of strip mall and tollway overpasses.
The day would start somewhat ominously; I got lost. That kind of thing happens when the empty field that was there a few months ago is now a sprawling complex of low rise apartments, retail shops, with nary a gas station in sight. Where there once was a Bar-B-Que pit, it now houses a sushi bistro. Texas has taken to crudo in century 21.
 What else? A "gentlemen?s" club or two, after all, they are on the route sheet. Disciplina, as they said in Ancient Rome. Imagine this: making a cold call in 100°F weather, going into dark and dank clubs, the smell of stale beer and cigarettes pounds you as you escape the heat of the day. Inside the dark, the wet, chilly air conditioning, the heavy bass beat and an empty pole waiting for the dancers to change their shift.
A sign that says ?WiFi here?, as if someone would come here to surf the net. Over in the corner a lonely guy is getting a heartless lap dance.
And somewhere around a series of corners, we lurch to find the bar manager.
My colleague walks straight and deliberate, like she is on a high wire. I'm impressed with her lack of fear in this den of improbability. But then again, she lived in Naples for four years.
We find a congenial guy, a businessman trying to figure out how to keep his margins healthy so he can stay open for this mixed blue and grey collar establishment. Every minute or so a ?waitress? comes up to the bar with an order, Jack Black and Coke, Stoly on the rocks, that kind of thing. High octane in a tumbler.
 Everyone is looking for an opportunity. The Piemontese make a low alcohol sweet slightly frizzante red that sells well in these places. The client can buy it for $12 and sell it for $80. The girls can drink it all night and never lose their balance, on the job. We talk about pitching it on another visit, after all the formal introductions have been made.
Flash-forward several hours later, after our main event. A couple of us are sitting outside under the warmish Austin night, quenching our thirst with an Alsatian Riesling. One in our party, a Master somm, related a story of how they charged, in one of their clubs in the meat packing district of NY, $700 for a bottle of Cristal. It seems that was too low, the wine was selling too fast; they had to go around the regular channels of procurement. So they raised the price, $1200, $1700, $2500. It got to the point that they couldn?t ask too much for a bottle of the stuff. Makes the $80 buck bubbly look like chump change.
 Back to the main event. After driving in circles around the torn up streets of downtown Austin (everything is under construction, reminds me of Rome) I finally find a valet park ( which I hate) close to the spot where we be having the tune-up, Taste Select. I?ve got a baker's dozen selections of Italian wine for the event. We have Italians coming and a Master sommelier, a wine buyer for one of the hottest Japanese places in town, another top restaurant owner who lived in Italy, an MW candidate, an assistant winemaker, and several colleagues from the wine biz. Wines opened:
? Contadi Castaldi Franciacorta Brut
? 2007 Araldica ?La Luciana? Gavi
? 2006 Re Manfredi Basilicata Bianco (Muller-Thurgau/ Traminer aromatico)
? 2000 Gravner Breg
 ? 2004 Capezzana Carmignano
? 2001 Podere Poggio Scalette Il Carbonaione (corked)
? 2000 Castello di Rampolla Sammarco
? 2003 Argiano Brunello di Montalcino ( the forbidden label)
? 1997 Angelo Sassetti Pertimali Brunello di Montalcino
 ? 2004 Re Manfredi Aglianico del Vulture
? 2004 Nino Negri ?5 Stelle? Sfursat
? 1999 Produttori del Barbaresco Barbaresco
? 2001 Bruno Giacosa Barolo
? 2006 Fama Fiororange (Maculan Dindarello)
 With the exception of the corked Il Carbonaione, all the wines showed well. Plates of charcuterie and small producer cheeses were served, this was a simple event, food wise, but the foods served were way above the high water mark. I know folks in NY, LA, SF, Italy are saying, yeah, but. Whatever, last night at Taste Select in Austin, we had the Family Table rockin'. And we learned lots of words in Napolitan' dialect.
 Next month Texsom runs in Austin. Any folk who live nearby should get on the bus, when we feature Italy for two seminars along with Argentina, Washignton, Loire Valley, New Zealand, Medoc & Graves, Porto, Madeira & Sherry and an important seminar on Erstes Gewaches. If you are a sommelier and live in Texas, Louisiana, Oklahoma or wherever, consider coming to this. This is a growing event. Where else in the US can you go for a couple of days and hang out with a lot of great wine geeks?
 Speakers & Panel Members-The List So Far:
? Guy Stout MS
? Fred Dame MS
? Greg Harrington MS
? Shayn Bjornholm MS
? Ken Fredrickson MS
? Keith Goldston MS
? Charles Curtis MW
? Brian Cronin MS
? Bartholomew Broadbent
? Wayne Belding MS
? Laura DePasquale MS
? Brett Zimmerman MS
? Larry O'Brien MS
? Alfonso Cevola CSW
? Joe Spellman MS
? Tim Gaiser MS
? Fernando de Luna
? Josh Raynolds
? Rebecca Murphy
? Diane Teitelbaum
? Paul Roberts MS
? Sally Mohr MS
? Joe Phillips MS
? Darius Allyn MS
I know the guys that have put this together, Drew Hendricks and James Tidwell, would love to see you at the 2008 Texas Sommelier Association Conference, August 17-18, at the Four Seasons Hotel in Austin Texas.
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| [07/16/2008, 08:08] | Shelf Deception | |  With everything in play the way it has been for the last 50 or so years, is anyone surprised that we now find ourselves in prime-time navel gazing mode regarding our future? In the early 1970?s we were not so gently warned to get our oil-addiction in check. And now, everyone is acting surprised that gas is $4 a gallon, like it?s the end of the world? Hello, that was the price of gas in Italy, in 1984.
Now we are starting to reluctantly see the introduction of the new pony cars, like the new Dodge Challenger or the new Chevy Camaro, which were designed way back when the price of oil was $40 a barrel and now it is $140. No wonder there isn?t too much excitement about those cars, except in places like the Chinese Billionaire Club or the Dubai Gazillionaire?s Guild.
 Is it any surprise that now, not many fellows want to shell out the bucks for a pony car that will cost them $50 a day to run? The world that these cars were designed for no longer exists.
Likewise, in the Italian wine world, we also have these pony car wines that were dreamt up for a world that isn?t there waiting for them. The shelves are not begging for it, I have this on good counsel from the streets.
I know some of my importer friends and colleagues don?t like to hear it, but the world has presently turned away from something thought up to be uber and special, a luxury item created for an emerging market that can barely keep its head above water.
 "It's not easy being green"
What is the typical wine of which I talk about? It is often from Tuscany but not limited to that area. The Maremma figures in here, seeing as there was a lot of investment and planting some years ago, in anticipation of the growth of the phantom category. It can be a blend of Sangiovese with Bordeaux varietals. Syrah can also be a component. It can also be found in the Veneto, in Piedmont, in Sicily, Sardegna, the Marche, almost anywhere. But Tuscany seems to be the poster child for these mis-planned opportunities that never materialized.
And I?m not meaning to throw down hate on my Tuscan brethren, but folks, I really don?t see how it will fly in these times. If anyone can find the rubes, please send some of them to me.
 OK, so we get an email, or a meeting whereby we get this plea, more often in the form of a requisite for continued good relations. Time out.
Let?s say I am a salesman coming to your place, to sell you, let?s see, brushes. And I knock on your door, because you have been a good customer, have bought a lot of brushes from me in the past. Even tooth brushes and brushes to clean out the spokes in your car wheels. So you are a loyal client and you pay me always on time. Good times.
 And I come to you and tell you I have built this brush factory and have invested heavily. And those brushes I have been selling to you for $5-6, I still want to sell them to you. But I need you to also buy a bunch of brushes for your house and they cost $12-15 and they only are good for the second floor. You can?t use them in the garage and they are useless in the dining room. They are only for the study on the 2nd floor or the guest bedroom. And not the bathrooms. And I need you to buy a dozen of them.
And you look at me and tell me you don?t need them, let alone a dozen of them. And I respectfully answer back that I hear you but I still need you to step up to the plate and honor the commitment that our relationship requires.
 Can you feel the force of the door as it just got slammed in my face?
Now, I?m not saying that it would go that far. But just like Detroit has invested in something that is really not appropriate for the current market, so in other endeavors, there are products developed that just aren?t the greatest ideas for the world we find ourselves in.
 What the world needs now - is it really another highfaluting Maremma wannabe that sells for $60, $80, $100?
I don?t see it, anymore than I see myself getting behind the wheel of a 9mpg Viagra-mobile.
What does excite me is to press on with the refinement of those wines that appear to be Italian concept wines, but closer to entry level prices. Look at the Asian car market, or better, look at the European car market. Within 2 years VW is going to have a car for sale that will get 235 mpg. How about an Italian wine that doesn?t suck all the spare change out of the glove compartment, something we can drive around our dining rooms and still be able to put pasta and salad on the table as well?
Something for the wine-concept gurus to think about, when they?re staring at themselves in the mirror, while they put on their sunscreen, before they head out to the seaside, during the month of August.
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| [07/14/2008, 06:36] | Under the Tuscan Stun | |  We?re deep into July now, the skin bakes well at 99° F. I might as well tell my sister not to print this one out for our mother, as she will just think I have lost my mind. And yes, I will digress.
Over the last week many wines were opened and tasted, in the course of duty and pleasure. Right now, I am tired of alcohol, but I am sure that will pass. Occupational hazard.
The coming week will be as equally challenging, with travel, tastings, a master class in Italian wine (in Austin), prepping the young pups for Texsom in August.
This whole wine thing, right now, has become such an obsession; it creeps into your life, your work, your closets, the fridge, under the table, another closet, a shelf with 20 years worth of Italian wine magazines. It really wraps itself around the saddle of your life and takes you on quite the ride.
 Before you get to thinking this post is leaning towards the visually risqué, let me explain. The images shown have been created by the artistic duo known as Dormice. Dormice are Heinrich Nicolaus, born in Munich and Sawan Yawnghwe, born in Burma. Dormice live and work in Tuscany. I find their work compelling and I am fascinated with the way they pool their creative inspiration. They have a wonderful way with the use of color and form, and that is the simple reason why their work frames this post.
As the world turns, this time towards oblivion and that way towards exhilaration, I find this to be the stuff of summer and July. This month goes too fast for me; I could use two months of July. It sears my inspiration and keeps within me an overload of energy that fuels me deep into the late autumn- early winter time.
 Tuscany, Tuscany, Tuscany. What on earth are they doing to you now? Earlier in the week I was sharing a bottle of a simple Chianti Classico from Melini, Il Granaio 2003, with three sommeliers. One, a Master-somm, who was in a great mood, replied something to the effect that this wine in it?s simplicity, how did she say it, something like it was so nice to just enjoy Sangiovese and Chianti like it is meant to be. I had to agree, not because I was trying to sell it to her and everyone else we had tasted that day. But it really was an epiphany to me, because here was this quiet little Chianti that had sat in the warehouse for many months, and it had blossomed into this pretty little wine. It wasn?t a stunner, but the experience was. Because, once again, you never know when the little wine god will creep up into a bottle and reveal itself, if you are quiet and fortunate and have others around you to help row the boat in the right direction. And those kinds of things are everywhere in this wine business.
 Some time ago a salesman from a huge wine company called me up and asked me to please help him spread the word on their 2001 SuperTuscan. The wine was Alleanza, from Gabbiano. Usually that wine is not on the high priority list. There?s too little of it in any event. But when I took that wine home and tasted it during an evening, just by myself, again the midnight bloom arose from the bottle and beguiled me with its dance of seduction.
 Over the years, another Chianti Classico, from Querciavalle and the Losi family, has been the reason for pause and reflection. This one comes with many visits and memories, something the over-inputted salesperson doesn?t have time for. Today as I was stretched upon the float in the pool, for one brief moment I was under anther sun, this time on the road near their winery going to the spot where their oak tree was struck down many moons ago. From that stunning moment, the raison d'être of the winery was forged.
 Last week, another day, Gabrizia Cellai was in town to speak of her wines from Caparzo, La Doga and Borgo Scopeto. There was a moment when we were tasting Caparzo?s simple red, their Sangiovese. No Syrah, Merlot or Colorino, just straight Sangiovese. Again, here I was, at the altar, with something so simple and straightforward, just a blissfully uncomplicated come-across.
 How is it a bee sting can be more significant than running into a wall? It might be because the bee pinpoints their focus on exactly one point. Running into a wall can be hard to spot, years down the road. Tonight I ran into a wall. At a friend house someone suggested I try the Silverado Reserve Merlot 1997. So I did. Just as I have tried many other wines lately from my home state. Somewhere I had a Russian River Chardonnay, and again I quizzed myself inside, wondering what it was I had missed. Oh please, California, look to the simple pleasures of wine and life. Less is more, really. Just as Italian food is characterized not by how much you can load into the dish, but rather how well you can work with three of four ingredients, isn?t time we looked to wines like that and celebrated them for their pure simplicity and the pleasure that it brings to us?
I walked away from the table after that ?97 Merlot. It was not something I would ask for with my last meal.
 The other day of couple of older guys (older than me) came into a fine wine store where we were tasting the Chianti and they were asking for ?big and bold Syrahs.? I really thought, at first, that they were liquor board guys; they had the ?look.? I was disappointed when I heard them requesting the big Syrah like it was some kind of vinous Viagra.
 So we have these characters looking to blow $60 on a big red lap dance and on the other end of the scale we have these jokers who come up and say something like this: ?Anyone can find a great wine for a $100. It takes a real snoop to suss out the great ones for under $10. Yeah, that would have been a pretty fair way to go about it, back when the price of oil was around $14 a barrel. But now that snoop has fallen behind the reality of the times. Just like the restaurant that cuts back on the quality of the ingredients in their food, so there are measures that can be taken like that with wine. But why would someone continue on with such self deception? Younger generations don?t do that, in fact they see wines at $15-20 as a baseline. And yes, I have gotten off track.
What I am saying is that here we were with this little Chianti from Melini that has five years of age on it, sells for about $20, has some maturity to it, is balance, is simple, is correct. What else do you want? That?s the end of the rainbow. The lightning bolt. The Golden Fleece .
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| [07/11/2008, 08:22] | Red Letter Day | |  While one who sings with his tongue on fire
Gargles in the rat race choir
Bent out of shape from society's pliers
Cares not to come up any higher
But rather get you down in the hole
That he's in.
Busy time here, in refried country. Wine people from California to Montalcino have been joining us in the sun-baked trenches of the last market that makes sense. Italian wines are alive and well and this week gave proof to that preposterous assertion.
 And what is the secret, the magic ingredient? It?s leather and the lack of it in certain places. It relates to the street and the tenacity of those who have joined us in our quest to take on the final frontier. Italy has gotten a hold on this state which is larger than Italy, as large as France. This is no easy task, but we are going to bristle and mow our way through the year to prove to New York, Chicago, LA and San Francisco that there is competition for the fine wine segment of the Italian wine market. This week was just the beginning.
 Imagine getting up at 6:oo AM in order to get ready for a long day. Nine wines, six clients, 120 miles of driving, in a circle, like a carousel. Young palates, master tasters, Italians, chefs, wine bar enthoos, no we?re not talking about Austin (next week, Dottore). We?re a bit east of the Barnett Shale, the phenom that is transforming the local economy and making a lot of believers out of the Texas miracle. More on that another time. Right now we have just come off of three days of intensive tasting and pounding the streets. The leather I was talking about was on the bottom of my shoes. No, that?s not some lunar landscape; that, my friends is a badge of honor. Yes, we?re still paying our dues and proud of it.
 Vacation to Europe? Not yet, the action is here in the armor plated patrol vehicles. With the inside of them coming up to 110-115° F, we have our Koolatron chests panting to keep our wine and our laptops cool. Suit, tie, long sleeve, yes grasshopper, we have entered the battle zone and we will not surrender and we will conquer the hubris and the entropy. With or without our punch lists.
I got a call from Hollywood today, from a friend who runs a studio. Actually, Burbank. Anyway, he?s got a movie that?s doing great right now. Famous for the way a shoe is integral to the story line. A hybrid.
 I?m at lunch with four other gents. Checking out one of the haut-spots. I cannot find a wine on the list for less than $100 bucks. An old Italian SB for $12 a glass that is selling down the street for $9. I start to see red. The start of my red letter day.
Darkness at the break of noon
Shadows even the silver spoon
The handmade blade, the child's balloon
Eclipses both the sun and moon
To understand you know too soon
There is no sense in trying
Italy is turd-blossoming. A day after tasting wines from all over Italy, from Piedmont to Basilicata, from Sicily to Tuscany, we finish off the day with some Pinot Noirs from The Santa Rita Hills. A Seasmoke trio with a handful of cheeses from Italy to Spain, California, France, Wisconsin.
 Later that night, I am dreaming of California; the dream is a wild ride with a young family member, Vinitaly, Dr. P and the rolling hills of the Central Coast, sometimes in the sunlight, sometimes on fire. Then, cool breezes, and a waterfall , emotion, and collapse. Powerful wines that provoke such vivid dreams, or was it the cheese? I know at 9:30 I fell asleep with the lights on, only to hear in the distance the light ring of a text message. It?ll have to wait, I?m in Monroe country.
You lose yourself, you reappear
You suddenly find you got nothing to fear
Alone you stand with nobody near
When a trembling distant voice, unclear
Startles your sleeping ears to hear
That somebody thinks
They really found you
Dallas, Austin, Chicago, Hollywood, New York, Rome, Washington D.C., New Orleans, Sonoma, Castiglione della Pescaia, Harlingen, San Benedetto del Tronto; just some of the stops on the summer-fall tour.
 ?Take me with you to Italy,? they said in an aisle as I came up off my knees from placing the bottles of Oltrepo Pavese red on the rack. ?We?ll carry your luggage.? I had a master class in packing today. One pair of shoes, two pairs of pants, three shirts, no medicines ( get them there when or if you need them). One camera, no computer, travel light. Nothing to check, little to carry on, they have changed the rules. Like my film-maker friend said today, ?flying sucks, unless it?s business class on international or a private jet.? Have your gal call Clooney?s gal and let?s get hooked up, pal. (It?s alright ma, I can make it.)
A question in your nerves is lit
Yet you know there is no answer fit to satisfy
Insure you not to quit
To keep it in your mind and not fergit
That it is not he or she or them or it
That you belong to.
Although the masters make the rules
For the wise men and the fools
I got nothing, Ma, to live up to
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| [07/09/2008, 08:24] | Empty Suits | |  It seems like that scene in a movie with everyone sitting around the bar, in the desert, waiting for the all clear sign, after the H-bomb has gone off. The streets are empty, the atmosphere is heavy; have we entered the age of the American Malaise?
Steakhouses and fancy designer restaurants fill up early with Maseratis and Land Rovers parked outside, all in a neat little row. There is wealth hovering around us, but it has migrated to the north of the middle class faster than a jackrabbit in West Texas on the first day of hunting season.
 How low can you go? Today I found some fresh Italian wine to sell to a client for $3.50 a bottle. Not distressed, actually from Trentino. A little fruity, but not like the bottle of Sonoma Chardonnay I opened up a few nights ago. That was one undrinkable white wine. Fruit, soaked in oily-oak. Like some of the food I had recently in a new place. Only then it was too much salt. Hey, chefs, if you are making a dish with capers, before you spice-a-spoofulate it with salt, taste the freakin? food! And they wonder why Italian places are closing here and elsewhere (i.e. NY, SF, LA, Vegas, Chicago, Birmingham, San Antonio, Baton Rouge, Denver, ad nauseum). Yeah it?s a bummer, but it?s even harder to understand why someone would make an investment in a restaurant and then not go to the trouble to prepare the food in a balanced way. And they wonder why we stay home to eat.
 Let?s go over the reasons- Let me count the ways:
1) Fresh food prepared simply and not over spiced.
2) Wine that is of my choosing, not from some salesperson?s tick list.
3) While we?re at it, wine that I can access at a reasonable price, not 3, 4, 5 times marked up.
4) Water glasses that aren?t constantly getting refilled.
5) I can park my own car, so if I want to screw up my transmission I can do it at my leisure.
6) I can choose my music, my noise levels, and the people I want around me, not constantly having to be hostage to my neighbors drama and rudeness.
I can only imagine restaurateurs who are truly engaged nodding their heads, but the ones who need to read up aren?t checking in to blogs. Hey, they can barely get their orders out in time.
And here?s another issue, which it seems many restaurant operators are blissfully ignorant about. Diesel is $5 a gallon. So when a delivery truck heads out, with tomatoes or Teroldego, the clock is ticking on the driver to get the goods delivered efficiently. So how come so many restaurant operators are living back in the days when oil was $38 a barrel? And why are they stunned when their business fails? I?m just sayin?.
 Back to the empty suits. I was watching one of my favorite movies, Sexy Beast, and was thinking about organization, whether it revolves around breaking into a bank or onto a wine list. It seems like cracking a wine list is more challenging these days. There is a service called Wineosaur, that can track and compare wine lists by regions, neighborhoods, zip codes, types of restaurants, class of restaurants ($$), really interesting analytical stuff. So I print out an analysis for a new place getting ready to open, try to show them what their competition is doing. This is good stuff, free professional consultation, the real deal. But hey what do we know; the organization I work for has only been around since 1909, eh?
 OK, the bottom line? Restaurants that use wine pricing to shore up their profits are sticking it to their loyal clients; you know the ones who are looking at $60-75 to fill up their autos? Just like the fill-up used to be $30-35, so the wine that cost $15 also used to sell for $30-35. Now that wine costs $18 and those restaurants are now asking $60-75 for the same wine. No labor, not like the piccata dish with the capers and the salt. Yeah, the wholesalers are the bad guys, delivering wines to the forgetful restaurateurs on a Friday so they can mark the just-in-time inventory up 3,4,5 times and then when you walk in the empty place on a later that night they look at you, the paying customer, as if you were a bit off for not making a reservation. That?s after they enter your name is a database, send it off the homeland security, just in case you brought a wine opener on to the premises. Might be a security threat. Or worse, we might be giving a staff training.
That?s another thing. This week, this very week, in a restaurant, a server described a Montepulciano d?Abruzzo to a friend as tasting ?like a Cabernet.? And then in the same night, at the same table, to a group of food professionals, Gavi was compared to a ?Sauvignon Blanc.? Oh really? Managgia, porco dio, we really do have so many miles to go before we sleep.
Say good night, Gracie.
From the front lines of the battle for the love of wine.
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| [07/07/2008, 06:20] | Once Upon a July | |  It?s my month, definitely my month. This is the period when I take a breather from the daily grind, crank back, calm down and tan up. Often there is some beach time on the Adriatic. But this year, it?s all done as a remote viewer. There?s too much going on here. The wine trail in Italy must wait. And maybe my month as well might need to be put on the back burner.
I went looking for signs of economic life in America, in the restaurants, in the markets, in the liquor stores, in the lakeside dancing spots, looking for hope that the America I grew up in was still there. Maybe a little dented, bruised, but not down for the count.
 The thing is, it looks like all across the globe, except for the extremely wealthy, we are in a pinch. Italy is in a crunch, things there are expensive. Across America, East Coast, West Coast, flyover country, there are signs not only that things are slowing down but the people don?t seem be able to recognize what we?re in. My 94 year old mother commented to me today, that she thinks this could be worse than the Depression she went through as a young American. My mother, who is paying almost $5 for a gallon of gas.
And folks at farmers markets, selling their organic berries, still think Barack Obama is a foreigner or a Muslim? We are standing in the square at High Noon and this is one noir moment in our history.
 And what is the Italian response? From Italy, it seems that silence is what they are serving back. I am astonished that they think this would be an appropriate response. Like the cat that sits in the corner and pretends to not see you, thinking if they don?t look at you, you will think there aren?t there. Invisible. Not culpable. Unbelievable.
I have been reviewing wine lists across my region and am amazed that no one has thought to re-adjust their mark up so that folks could actually be persuaded to get in their SUV?s and go out to dinner and possibly order a bottle of wine. Salespeople all across my region are telling me, in places both reasonably priced and high end, things have slowed down, body count is down. Except in Afghanistan.
 Listen, you buy a bottle of wine for $25, you charge $90. Wrong. You charge $60, maybe, and give the diners a break. They are already taking it in their tanks; find a way to bring them back in. Because if you don?t, you might not be able to get them back in, even if you charge only $50. It?s heading that way, faster than a brushfire in Southern California.
Here?s a sign of the times. We have 700-800 cases from a winery in Puglia, the wine just showed up. Suits on Stockton Street decide to move the wine over to another house. Happens all the time. This here now is fresh wine, retails for $11-12. Although a year or so ago the same wine could be found for $9-10. Anyway, I get to offering this wine for $5 for the whole lot, way below cost. Don?t know why, maybe to slow it down in its next life cycle, maybe to give a friendly account a deal. Now here?s the shocker. I run it by a couple of accounts across the state and the wind-up is, they can?t take it all. Yes, it?s a good deal, they admit, but cash flow or body count is low. So, no deal.
 That, my friends, is not a good indication. For any of us. Not for the bio-dynamic, free-range, sulfite-free crowd and not for the let?s go get some K-J at Cost-Co crowd. I have been talking about this for a while now and folks are just trading down, not one or two price points, but more. Hey, Rumsfeld and the Pentagon tried it, and didn?t that work out real well for all of us? Now we have a whole country looking for something from somewhere cheaper than China? Good luck.
Is it all doom and gloom, sky is falling, badder than bad? Of course not, but the signs are all there.
 A bunch of Italian working men go into a club at then end of their shift, have a beer or a whisky. Talk about their lives, their family, their women, their goomadas. At the end they all go home, where their kids and their wives are waiting for them, water boiling on the stove, a pot of sauce simmering, some pork riblets in it to thicken the sauce and supply some meager protein. The same story across the country for two, three generations. And then, no more, it?s gone. They?re gone, the people, the traditions, the hopes the sauce, the boiling water. The goomadas. La commedia è finita.
Forty years later we stare into screens, looking for meaning, searching for our simmering sense of belonging to something on a Sunday night in the middle of the desert on a hot night in July.
Yep, definitely my month.
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| [06/16/2008, 16:13] | il vino ? a lakarte ! | | 
Lekarte.com è una bellissima idea per costruirsi la propria carta vini.
Il sito è una banca dati di oltre 15 mila etichette di vini italiani e permette al ristoratore di comporre la carta dei vini per il proprio locale.
Per ogni etichetta basterà inserire i dati tecnici del vino come annata, grado alcolico, vitigno etc. accompagnati da una breve descrizione e la foto.
A questo punto il ristoratore o il wine bar potranno realizzare la propria wine list.
Il servizio si completa con la stampa in diversi formati e la possibilità di usare addirittura carte pregiate Fedrigoni.
Per i formati e i prezzi cliccare qui
Veramente una gran bella idea...e voi che aspettate a fare la vostra karte dei vini?
fonte: vino24 | | TrackBack | | | |
| [05/07/2008, 21:44] | Vini di Moda, Vini Sempreverdi, Fascette e Biodinamica | | Si è svolto il 2 maggio, con l’organizzazione a cura della Festa dei Vini Classici della Valpolicella di Pedemonte (VR) e del Palio del Recioto di Negrar (VR), il convegno dal titolo “Vini Trendy, Vini Evergreen: quando il trionfo di oggi diventa un successo senza tempo”.
Molta la carne al fuoco, compreso una riunione del Consorzio della Valpolicella, con una novità abbastanza importante: quindi vedremo di parlarne e commentare. Biodinamica e Champagne:anche Poiana Maggiore era Biodinamico? Il primo intervento della serata è stato dell’enologo Hervè Jestin, della Maison Fleury Père et Fils Champagne (il sito): oltre a rappresentare il vero Sempreverde e sempre di Moda Champagne, la Maison da circa 10 anni pratica la viticoltura biodinamica, e nel settore in Francia è una delle voci più autorevoli, seconda forse al solo Nicholas Joly della Coulèe de Serrant.
Non starò a tediarvi con la viticoltura biodinamica, perché la conosco poco, e quindi la castroneria è in agguato, al limite guardatevi il sito italiano di Rudolf Steiner, colui che codificò la biodinamica, per avere notizie precise: se credete all’influenza delle varie forze naturali e cosmiche sulla vita animale e vegetale, allora qui c’è da divertirsi.
Monsieur Jestin, con l’ausilio di prove ed esperienze, dice che la viticoltura biodinamica dà grandi risultati, mentre per la vinificazione e tecniche di cantina la sperimentazione è ancora aperta, in quanto lo Steiner non fece in tempo a dedicarcisi, e quindi si opera rispettando i suoi principi.
Alla fine comunque l’esortazione ai presenti è di provare la Viticoltura Biodinamica: alla Fleury i risultati sono ottimi Champagne.
Una cosa soltanto: ho ricordi del nonno e di |
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